A wise man once said,
“‘beauty is truth, truth beauty,’–that is all”
the honesty rang, as we stood studying Frankly
(in the silvery, slivery light),
the brushstrokes of the Moderns.
as you stroked
my cheek, my mind, my soul,
I could only wonder
Whether wisdom is found in discrete moments,
or in one great lump–
an impasto knifework,
beautiful and shocking.
Hanging in the slanted light of